Misery and Thorn
by WilderCapall
Summary: Bound by their oaths to Galbatorix, Murtagh and Thorn attempt to endure their enslaved existence. When the king sends them to destroy a small village known to house Varden sympathizers, they discover a far greater danger to the Empire. Probable Murtagh/OC
1. Slave

I cannot believe that people can become bored enough to read my fanfiction…XD

Yeah…I feel the need to write Murtagh fanfiction because he is awesome and I love him.

At the exact moment when I wrote this, I was in Creative Writing and my teacher was out sick, so I felt no remorse writing in school. I never do anyway, but I thought I'd mention that. :P

I'm not positive, writing this intro, if there will be an OC. There very well may be. But I don't know.

**Misery and Thorn**

Murtagh leaned against Thorn's ruby side, mulling over his brother's words.

According to Eragon, they could be free. They could escape Galbatorix's iron hold.

But only by changing the very essence of who they were. He wouldn't do that. His identity was all he had left in this place. And after all, Galbatorix's vision was incredible: Riders revived, dominion over all of Alagaesia…

Then melancholy enveloped him again. Thorn whined in response, and Murtagh stroked his scales absently.

Once, not all that long ago, he had been free, one of the freest people in the world, beholden to no one but himself; now he was bound tighter than any slave, bound to burn and kill and destroy for the cruel puppet-master who hid in his castle with his ancient black dragon.

He hated the mad king for enslaving them. Thorn had never fully understood the changes worked upon his body that forced him to grow at unnatural speed, and his inexperience and still-young thoughts had gotten them both injured repeatedly, sometimes badly. The Eldunarì had always saved them in time, but Murtagh feared for himself and his bonded partner. There might come a day that the hearts were not enough to save them from the void.

Murtagh felt fear and confusion emanating from Thorn, the dragon's response to his Rider's own. The young man tried to calm him, though he failed even to soothe his own fevered, racing mind.

Not for the first time, Murtagh wished for the connection Eragon had with Saphira, where the dragon was equal and advisor. Thorn was still so young in mind that Murtagh had no such partner, though the dragon was still his closest companion.

Thorn curved his sinuous neck around Murtagh, encircling him and humming deep in his chest. Morzan's son hooked an arm around an ivory spike, sending the red dragon whatever calm he could muster. He was all too aware of how odd their relationship as dragon and Rider was. The only other Riders in Alagaesia possessed, if not stronger connections, at least older, mature dragons in whom to confide and be advised; a level of connection made impossible by Thorn's youth and the fact that he had spent nearly his entire life within Uru-baen's walls.

_We are alone_, Thorn said. One vermilion eye found Murtagh's dark gray ones.

_Yes…we certainly are…_

_When do we fly again?_

_I don't know…soon, no doubt…_he_ wants us patrolling as much as possible._

_It is better to be in the sky._

Murtagh agreed silently. Even while bound by their vows, the sky felt almost like freedom.

_**Murtagh. I require your presence.**_

He found himself standing without noticing, walking as though in a dream. These were the times he hated the most, when he could not even move on his own, when he could not even pretend to have an ounce of freedom.

Thorn made a low, worried sound in his throat, though he too had no choice but to follow.

"You failed again," Galbatorix said silkily. "Explain."

"He has become stronger," Murtagh replied, careful to keep his voice low and controlled, knowing too well what happened to those who raised their voices to the king. Galbatorix would not kill them, but Murtagh knew that he could make their lives a living hell. He had done it before, when he had chosen to release Eragon, and again when the younger Rider had slain the Ra'zac. Murtagh bore more than one new scar that he had been unable to heal.

He stood tall and strong, and did not shrink back as Galbatorix rose and took a few steps toward them.

"Do you mean to say," the mad king almost whispered, "that even with the hearts I gave you, you could not complete this one simple task? ANSWER ME!" he demanded in a scream, ending by shouting Murtagh's true name.

Murtagh shook violently and fell to his knees, his breath escaping in sharp gasps.

"Yes," he said, trembling as the word tore from his lips. "I failed. I was not strong enough to overcome him."

Galbatorix sneered.

"Useless. I gave you more power than your father ever dreamed of receiving from me, but you are as worthless as he and his nameless dragon."

Murtagh gritted his teeth, hating the comparison to Morzan. He might serve Galbatorix, but not by choice. He was _not_ his father.

"There are Varden sympathizers sending supplies to the traitors, hiding in a small settlement at the western edge of Leona Lake. Destroy it. I am sure that even you can handle _that_." Here he added both of their true names, ensuring that the little village would not see another two days.

**End Chapter**

Okay, I do have more, but I want to see if anyone actually likes this before I post any more online. So yeah…review please, and tell me if you want me to keep going with it.


	2. Why?

Well, as Chapter 1 was well-received, I have decided to continue and post Chapter 2 ^.^ I certainly hope you like it!

Thanks to my reviewers: Aurora Starwing, PSFan712, and Dark Warthog :)

And to Aurora: Yes, Murtagh and Thorn have a slightly different relationship in this story than in many others, but I can't help but think of Saphira and Glaedr referring to him as stunted-thoughts-red-scales-Thorn, which made me think of how he actually is mentally, which is more like a fledgling than the full-grown body he has been forced into by Galbatorix...Murtagh and Thorn have not had the opportunity to bond the way Eragon and Saphira did in Book 1, but they obviously are intimately linked just as those two are, despite Thorn's "stunted thoughts", so I consider how Thorn would be different in his connection with Murtagh than Saphira is with Eragon or Glaedr with Oromis.

**Chapter 2**

Thorn glowed in the setting sun as he winged his way toward Leona Lake. They would rest before flying across the enormous body of water.

"If we don't destroy them, they Varden may kill us," Murtagh muttered, trying to justify yet another atrocity he was about to commit. "No stranger's life is more important than Thorn's or my own…"

_We have no choice in the matter_, Thorn said softly. _No matter what we think of it._

_I _know_, Thorn. It also does not change that almost the same situation caused me to leave Galbatorix's court the first time. I refused to destroy Cantos. This village will not have such luck…_

Thorn blinked slowly, his eyelid clicking against the bony ridge above it. He uttered a low whine.

_I'm sorry, _Murtagh murmured. Thorn made a deep rumbling noise in his chest, almost a purr. His Rider was forgiven. They never would stay angry; each was the only friend the other had.

Thorn enfolded Murtagh beneath his wine-red wing as the pair fell deep into sleep.

---

Murtagh woke with a jolt, the compulsion to move on heavy in his mind.

He vaulted lightly to Thorn's back, and the red dragon lifted his wings and swept them down, launching the pair into the sky.

Murtagh closed his storm-gray eyes and reveled in the cool caress of the wind on his face and through his raven hair. The air was crisp and clean, and Murtagh breathed in as much as he could, knowing that the air he breathed would soon reek of blood and death and fire. His eyes would sting with smoke, and he would make the same sad excuses as to himself as he looked as the broken, scorched bodies of the people he destroyed, as he had destroyed so many others.

He slipped into Thorn's mind, seeing the world from the perspective of his bonded partner.

The red in the landscape, though scarce, burst into prominence, while the blue of the lake and green of the swiftly receding shore became muted. Thorn welcomed his Rider gladly and looped in his rare high spirits. His speed increased and he roared, sending up a pillar of steam as his fire struck the smooth surface of the lake. He dipped lower and skimmed just above the water, sending up spray in his wake that crashed around them. Murtagh almost laughed.

Then the shore finally came into view. Any semblance of happiness immediately vanished from Murtagh's features. His gray eyes sobered, and he longed only to turn away and flee, flee across the ocean and far from Galbatorix's bloody war. But still Thorn flew on, forced by the compulsion laid upon them.

Too soon, a tiny village came into view. Murtagh scanned it with his mind, and could barely believe his findings.

This was no warrior's settlement; he found only one magician, and she was no battle mage, but a healer—and a weak one at that.

She panicked as his alien consciousness touched hers, but as she began to scream, Murtagh broke her mind and ended her with a word. He wondered why he had done it for a moment; the woman now crumpled on the floor had been no threat to him, and he had no need or wish for secrecy. But he had been ordered to destroy, and destroy he would.

Murtagh's consciousness swept through the town again; the place seemed like any other.

Thorn reached the village and roared; those people outside shrieked and scattered; they knew their fate, but still they ran; as mice before a hunting wildcat.

Thorn set a hut ablaze with the crimson and white flames that poured from his deadly maw. The red dragon landed in the narrow street, his orders compelling him to kill and burn, until it seemed that the very sky blazed in an endless inferno. Zar'roc gleamed in deadly delight, as "misery" drank its fill of blood. Soon, Murtagh senses only one living mind. He was surrounded by death and destruction. Uttering a savage war cry, he ran toward the consciousness he still felt. In order to escape his guilt, he had immersed himself in his own savagery and Thorn's love of blood.

He turned the corner and found himself face to face with a girl; a young woman not more than a year younger than himself.

"Letta!" she screamed, desperation evident in every line of her face as well as in her word.

Murtagh's eyes widened in surprised as the girl's spell stopped him in his tracks. How had he not known she was a magic user?

In any case, she was not strong enough to hold him, even without the aid of Thorn or the Eldunarì.

"Losna eka," he said in the language of power, a slightly cruel smile on his face.

The girl lasted only a few seconds before she began to tremble and collapsed, ending her spell. Murtagh took another step toward her.

"Why?" she demanded with all the strength she had left. "We housed neither Varden nor any other rebels. Why did you do this?" she screamed, pointing at her burning home.

Murtagh halted momentarily. His mindless, bloody ferocity had subsided.

"I cannot refuse the king's orders," he said softly. He noticed almost dispassionately that beneath the blood on her face and her fear and fury, the girl was very beautiful.

Her face twisted in a snarl.

As he looked at her, something occurred to him.

"I was ordered to destroy," he said. "I have destroyed much…but I may be able to spare you."

"You should have realized that a long time ago," she hissed. "I warn you, Murtagh Morzansson—"

Murtagh growled viciously and backhanded her across the face, sending her reeling backward.

"I rejected my _father's_ name well over a decade ago. His identity does not define me. Do not attach his name to me again, or you will regret it for the rest of your life—but don't worry, you would not have long to suffer."

The girl laughed, soft and derisive.

"I warn you, then," she began again, "Murtagh Son of None, if you leave me alive, _you_ will regret it. I will not rest until I revenge myself against you and your black king." Her voice was a snarling growl, her eyes hard, violet gems.

Thorn landed beside Murtagh; the girl's eyes showed only a brief flicker of fear before she hid it beneath her mask. It hardened into anger as Murtagh leapt to the crimson dragon's saddle.

"Coward!" she screamed as Thorn lifted off. "Kill me!"

Murtagh did not look back as Thorn winged his way toward Uru'baen.

**End Chapter**

Okay, I know it was really short and totally unsatisfying, I'm sorry . the next chapter WILL be up faster than this one, I promise. Please review and tell me what you think of the girl. She will be developed more as a character later, though I still do not have a name for her yet.

"Losna eka" means "release me." He uses an absolute because he knows that she will not be able to resist his level of power.


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